A new way home

Sometimes you just have to put your depression on hold and drag your ass out of your room to do something because other people rely on you. At least I have to and most of the time i actually have the ability to do so. Attend a meeting, go to a funeral, meet up with some friends, whatever. And when I’m on my way home, when the depression starts creeping back up I loose my sense of agency. When I’m in a positive head-space I usually am in a rush to get from one place to an other because I simply hate being in transit. I see it as time wasted not doing anything productive. However, when depression sets in, when I loose my agency, when I know I won’t be able to do anything, productive or no, suddenly there is no rush to get home. So I take this opportunity to find a new way.

I’ve lived in the same city all of my life so I have developed my own road network. I know how to get from important locations I frequent of frequented in the past, rarely straying from the paths that connect them. Sometimes there probably is a quicker route but the familiar path is the one taken because none other is considered. This has made me realise that I can’t honestly say that after 21 years here I know my way around town. So the combination of this realisation with not feeling enough lust for life to rush home has taken me down some interesting paths.

I’ve gone down trails leading into the woods I’ve biked past all my life, wondering where they go but never taken the time to explore. I’ve roamed around at midnight in the industrial area, realising it’s much bigger than I previously realised, just to name two examples. And today I went down the other side of the river where there is only old rusty boat yards and a water treatment facility. Sometimes you discover nothing of interest, other times the light is just right and even the rustiest dump can look like a work of art.